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She huffs. “Fine.”
Despite her tone, I can see genuine curiosity in her eyes. I sit back with a heavy sigh, my eyes falling to Kelsie. She's clearly nearing bedtime, drooping even as she keeps trying to play with her toys.
“I already told you that my marriage is falling apart. It's been over long before you and I met.” I gesture to Kelsie. “She's the only thing that makes it worth fighting for.”
Chloe doesn't say anything to that. When I look at her, I see her frowning, biting her lower lip.
“As to why I'm attracted to you…” I shake my head, shrugging helplessly. It’s the first time I’ve admitted it out loud, though I think we both know the feelings between us are mutual. “I'm not sure. Maybe I see a lot of my sister in you.”
Chloe barks out a laugh, and covers her mouth, cringing.
I roll my eyes, warmth hitting my cheeks. Jesus, could I sound any more like a creep?
“Not like that. My sister had a lot of issues. Drugs, abuse, you name it. She ran away at fifteen. I haven't heard from her since. I should’ve done more to help her when I had the chance.”
Chloe's expression smooths out, becoming curious again. She smiles, slightly haughty and disbelieving as she stretches her long legs out in front of her.
“So you think you can save me, because you couldn't help your sister?” Her smirk widens. “That's funny. It certainly didn't feel like I was beingsavedwhen you were fucking me.”
“Yeah, well, you're forcing me to sleep with you,” I remind her in a monotone.
“Am I, though?” Her head tilts thoughtfully. “I think you're happy about all of this,” she murmurs. “Deep down. I think it justifies you being able to do something you want to do anyway. You're beingforced. It's a good defence, Mr. Reed. Nice and rational.”
I clench my jaw, balling my hands into fists again. I don't like hearing her talk like that, because as much as there is some truth behind it, her knowing I want her just gives her more ammunition. Before I can answer, Kelsie decides she's had enough with her toys, and starts warbling in that way she does right before a tired tantrum. I get up and scoop her into my arms, relieved that Chloe didn't reach for her.
“I’ll be back down in a minute. Can I trust you not to go through my things?” I ask her pointedly. I don’t trust her a bit. This is Chloe we’re talking about, but I somehow doubt this is the first time she’s been in my home. She’s probably been through all of my things already.
She gives me a winning smile. “You can trust me to doanythingyou want me to do, Mr. Reed.”
Ignoring the suggestive tone of her voice, I go upstairs and take my time putting Kelsie down for a nap, hoping that by the time I go back down, I’ll find Chloe has gotten bored messing with me and left. I’m hopeful when I find that she's not in the living room, but when I follow the light to the kitchen, I see her pouring a cup of coffee. She offers me the mug. I give it a dubious look, which makes her laugh. She has the decency to sound sheepish.
“It's not drugged,” she says, pressing the mug into my hands. “Promise.”
I take it from her. It's stupid to trust her, but for whatever reason, I do. Besides, what more can she do to me? I go to the kitchen island and sit on one of the bar stools, nursing the drink. It's black and bitter, overdone, but that's not Chloe's fault. I never change the filters often enough. Chloe hovers by the machine. Her fingers trail along the counter. She purses her lips and looks at the door.
Her head tilts. “So, where's your wife?”
Where indeed?
“Away for a few days.”
“Mm.”
I hear Kelsie stirring and abandon my cup to go upstairs and check on her. Once she's settled, I leave the room. Chloe's not in the kitchen anymore when I get down there, which makes me incredibly nervous.
Maybe she finally left.
Marissa has little intention of coming back, at least in the short-term, which means there's no point in her staying and trying to get me caught in a compromising position.
Still, I double- and triple-check all the locks before I head upstairs to my room.
When I get there, I turn on the lights, and sigh when I see Chloe naked and spread out, looking fucking gorgeous on my bed. She gives me a wanton smile and beckons me over.
I clench my fists, feeling defeated. At this point, is there any use in resisting? She's not going to leave, not without getting fucked. She's so arrogant, thinking she can just break into my house, play with my kid, demand answers from me over personal shit, and then expect me to fuck her? I want to say no, take what little bit of dignity I have left and run, but I’m already hard as I approach her on the bed.
Shrugging off my clothes, I only hesitate for a moment, before I unhook my belt and pull it free. Folding it in half, I drag the leather back and forth over my free hand, considering her. There's no wariness in her eyes, which means she must think I wouldn't actually hurt her. Hell, I don't want to hurt her, I just want her to feel pain. I know it doesn't make sense, but I want her to feel what she's doing to me.
“Turn over,” I command.
